Chapter Text
Lara Jean Covey’s earliest memories were in a kitchen. She was two or three, watching her mom put the finishing touches on a chocolate cake. She quickly learned to enjoy baking time the most, because her mom let her sneak tastes. She had vivid memories of swirling her fingertip through leftover vanilla buttercream frosting. Breaking apart a chocolate chip cookie, the inside still warm and gooey. When she was seven, her mom took her baking hobby and opened up a bed and breakfast. The Willowbrook Inn. A place where you could find the best food, hospitality and people. Twenty some odd years later, Lara Jean still believed that they had all of the best.
“Is that him?” Lara Jean whispered, standing with her sister, Kitty, behind the front desk of the Willowbrook Inn, and trying to covertly size up a man standing on the other side of the lobby. He was somewhat obscured by a large plant, which made the task difficult.
“Yes, that’s him. His friend checked in, not him, but they gave the name John Smith. Seems suspicious, right?”
“I mean, it’s possible his name is John Smith. Did you ask for ID?”
“Yeah, it checks out. But still…”
Both sisters craned their neck to try to see around the plant. The man felt their gaze and looked over, and both women quickly looked down at the desk.
“Do you think he saw that?” Kitty asked urgently.
“Saw what?” Margot asked, joining them.
“Do you see that guy by the plant in the corner?” Kitty asked. “I’m pretty much convinced that it’s Ryan Gosling. Lara Jean doesn’t believe me.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Lara Jean said. “I just need more proof.”
“That’s ridiculous. What would Ryan Gosling be doing in Willowbrook?” Margot said.
“Maybe he’s filming a movie,” Kitty said hopefully.
Margot shook her head. “If he was filming a movie here, we’d all know about it.”
“Fine, well, maybe he’s passing through town on his way to film a movie.”
“Oh, he’s moving!” Lara Jean said excitedly. The three sisters watched – two with less interest than the third – when a man who was very clearly not Ryan Gosling walked past. Kitty deflated and said, “I guess it wasn’t him.”
“I’m so glad we solved that enthralling mystery,” Margot deadpanned.
Lara Jean’s phone pinged in her pocket and she pulled it out, quickly reading a text message from her friend, Chris. Kitty looked over with interest and asked, “Is that him?”
“No,” Lara Jean said, her cheeks flushing.
Margot looked between her sisters and asked, “Who are you talking about?”
“Lara Jean’s secret admirer,” Kitty enthused with a wide and toothy grin. “She’s still talking to that random number that texted her.”
“Seriously?” Margot said, sending a disapproving look toward Lara Jean. “He could be some crazy stalker for all you know. You really need to be more careful.”
“He’s not a stalker. He’s nice and sweet. And besides, we haven’t exchanged any personal information.”
“Well, keep it that way. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
Lara Jean shrugged and slid her phone back into her pocket. It all started a few weeks ago when a random number sent her a long and rambling text message about cross walkers moving too slowly in intersections. It was clearly meant for someone else, but she couldn’t help responding.
Sorry, I think you sent this to the wrong number. But, I COMPLETELY agree.
Don’t they know there are turners? Do they just not care?
And how do they not feel the total and complete disapproval coming from my car? Because I am glaring. A lot.
She didn’t expect much of a response, but he sent her an entire paragraph. From there, they texted about nothing and everything. Shows on television. The lines at coffee shops. One night, he texted her about the moon.
You should see the moon right now. It’s this glowing orb in a pitch-black sky.
It sort of makes you wonder why they write all those songs about second-rate stars.
She remembered resting her head against the window frame in her bedroom and gazing up at that same moon, wondering where he was and if he looked forward to her messages as much as she did his. They didn’t exchange names. After the pages of messages, it almost seemed like an afterthought. Besides, why did she need it? They were never going to meet. He mentioned something about living a town over, but he hadn’t broached the subject of meeting and she certainly wasn’t going to on her own. After he told her that his favorite book was Cather in the Rye, she put him in her phone as Holden Caufield.
Lost in her thoughts, Lara Jean hadn’t noticed Margot leave and reappear, her sister haphazardly working her hair into a ponytail as she said, “Lara Jean, they need you in the kitchen. There apparently is some issue with the produce shipment.”
“Never a dull moment,” Lara Jean sighed. She turned to her sister and teasingly added, “Kitty, let me know if there are any more celebrity sightings.”
“In my defense, he had many Gosling qualities.”
“Of course, he did, Kitty.”
Lara Jean made her way back into the kitchen, frowning when she saw the center counter piled high with strawberries. Her sous chef, Andy, said, “They messed up our order again. What the hell are we supposed to do with five pounds of strawberries?”
“Did someone already call on this?”
“Yeah, I did. Nick apologized, apparently there was a mixup with shipments, but we have to use these somehow.”
“I know.” Lara Jean considered her options and then said, “Let’s switch out the cheesecake for tonight and do a strawberry shortcake. That should at least put a dent in them. And how about a fresh strawberry lemonade?”
Andy nodded, face distracted and then he said, “Hold on. What about a pound cake with a strawberry-balsamic reduction?”
Lara Jean’s eyes lit up. “Yes. And maybe a touch of cannoli cream? We have some ricotta left over from the lasagna earlier this week.”
“Oh, this is going to be good. I’m almost not mad about the five pounds of strawberries now.”
Lara Jean grinned, grabbed her apron and tied it around her waist before starting in on the remaining lunch orders. She was seasoning a tray of chicken breasts when one of her waiters came in and sheepishly said, “There’s a bit of a situation outside.”
Lara Jean noticed the soup down the front of the waiter’s uniform and said, “Please tell me that isn’t also on one of our customers.”
“Do you want the truth?” the waiter asked, wincing slightly.
“Okay, I’ll handle this,” Lara Jean said, washing her hands quickly. “What table?”
“Eight.” The waiter sensed Lara Jean’s disapproval, and added, “He was done eating! So, it’s not like I ruined his meal. That much. I might have ruined his shoes, though. They looked like they might be suede.”
“Oh boy. Okay.”
Lara Jean cut a thick slice of their chocolate cake and put it on a plate. It may not fix suede shoes, but it did tend to diffuse high emotions. She walked over to table eight and saw that it held a man around her age. He was bent over, dabbing at his shoes with a napkin.
“Hi there, I wanted to apologize about the soup incident,” Lara Jean said.
The man looked up, and she was struck by the brilliance of his eyes. They were brown with golden specks. Like liquid amber. She realized that she held his gaze for just a beat too long, and quickly said, “I brought you a slice of our chocolate cake. On the house.”
“Thanks.”
“Are your shoes okay?” Lara Jean asked, peering down at them. “I can grab you some club soda from the back.”
She realized that she didn’t actually know if you could treat suede shoes with club soda, but before she had to think that through too far, the man said, “Nah, they’ll be fine. I’d been meaning to replace them soon anyway. Thanks for the cake, though.”
“You’re welcome. If you need anything else, just ask.”
“I will…” he clearly searched her blouse for a name-tag, which she was not wearing, and she told him, “I’m Lara Jean.”
“Okay. Thank you, Lara Jean.”
She gave him a crisp nod and then returned to the kitchen, for some reason wanting to look back, but avoiding the urge. A table’s order was up, and instead of risking another catastrophe, Lara Jean took the order out herself. She walked past the man’s table on her way back and he stopped her.
“Hey, do you guys make this cake here?”
“Yeah, we do,” Lara Jean said. “Well, I do. I do all the baking here.”
“This is the best chocolate cake I’ve eaten. Actually, no, this might be the best cakeI’ve ever eaten. How do you get it to taste like this?”
Lara Jean laughed lightly. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s a lot of butter and sugar. Making it taste good isn’t very difficult.”
The man shook his head resolutely. “No, I’ve eaten a lot of cake in my life. And it’s never tasted like this.”
“Well, thank you,” she said, feeling herself blush. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
She went to leave when he asked her, “So, how long has this place been open?”
It took her a minute to remember, her brain somewhat muddled around him, but then she told him, “1997.”
“It’s nice. It has a really friendly feel to it.”
Lara Jean smiled softly and said, “My mom always said that the best bed and breakfasts were the ones where everyone feels like family you haven’t met. We still try to honor that.”
“So, this is your family’s bed and breakfast?”
Lara Jean nodded. “Yeah. My mom used to run it, but after she passed away my sisters and I took over. We couldn’t imagine selling it.”
“That’s nice of you guys to carry on her legacy like that.”
“Honestly, we do it for us as much as for her. She poured so much of herself into this place, that whenever I’m here…I don’t know…it feels like maybe she isn’t entirely gone.”
She felt like she shared too much, but he smiled warmly and told her, “I think she’d be very proud of you. All of you.”
“Thank you.”
The man nodded, his expression contemplative, and she thought he was about to ask her another question when he laid his fork down and said, “Well, thank you for the cake. I appreciate it.”
It was a clear end to the conversation, and she said, “You are very welcome.” She noticed that he had just about finished the cake and said, “I’ll have someone bring you out your check.”
She turned around and headed back into the kitchen. Kitty trailed behind her, in search of coffee, and asked, “So, who was that guy you were talking with?”
“Just some customer,” Lara Jean said. She turned to one of her waiters and asked, “Can you bring table eight his check? Thanks.”
She poured Kitty a cup of coffee and passed it to her before filling one up for herself. “It’s weird, there was something so familiar about him.”
“Maybe you’ve seen him around town?”
Lara Jean shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Did you get his name?”
Lara Jean shook her head again and Kitty sighed. “You really are very bad at this.”
The waiter returned with table eight’s check, and Kitty excitedly plucked the black envelope from his hand. No doubt, hoping to find a credit card with his name. She deflated when she saw that he paid with cash.
“Well, that was disappointing.”
That evening, Willowbrook had its monthly town hall meeting. Lara Jean planned to arrive early, not wanting to have to stand in the back like last month, but her afternoon proved unpredictable and she didn’t arrive at the meeting until well after it started. Kitty saved her a seat near the back and beckoned her over.
“You owe me big time. Mrs. Landingham tried to take your seat no less than three times. I’m pretty sure I am blacklisted at her flower shop now.”
“Like you ever buy flowers.”
“I could, Lara Jean. I could. Oh, and by the way, your hot guy is here.”
“What?”
Kitty pointed, somewhat obviously, to the seats over on the side of the room, and sure enough, there was the man from earlier. He was receiving many looks from the people in the room, mainly due to the fact that he was the only new face present. Willowbrook was a small town and it wasn’t uncommon for families to date back numerous decades, complete with deep-rooted friendships and disagreements. The Hallowell and Pickett families still couldn’t sit together at town hall meetings. All of that to say, a new face stood out.
Their mayor, Tom Newberry, ran the meeting and he grinned wide before he said, “Everyone I have some very exciting news to share with you all today. Just last week, it was confirmed that Willowbrook will be getting its very own Econo-Inn!”
Lara Jean blanched. Econo-Inns were notorious for barreling into towns and decimating its competition. With such a large corporate structure (and deep pocket) they were able to offer rooms at prices that smaller establishments couldn’t compete with. Not to mention, they were corporate tools, shelling out fake hospitality with stale cookies and plastered grins.
“This exciting addition to our town will mean more tourists. Which means more people in your stores and restaurants.” The crowd buzzed appreciatively. “To share more details about this very exciting opportunity, I turn the floor over to Econo-Inn’s very own Peter Kavinsky.
Lara Jean was already stunned, but she was down-right floored when she saw the man from earlier stand up and join Mayor Newberry at the podium. He shook his hand heartily and said, “Thank you, Mayor Newberry, for that warm introduction. Hello everyone. As Mayor Newberry already said, my name is Peter Kavinsky. For years, my family has been dedicated to creating comfortable and affordable home-away-from-homes for people on the road. Places that feel familiar the moment you walk in the front door. Where everyone feels like family you haven’t met.”
“Son of a bitch,” Lara Jean muttered under her breath. She wasn’t exactly quiet and drew some looks from people seated near her.
“That’s mom’s line,” Kitty whispered angrily.
“I know. I told him it earlier,” Lara Jean returned in a tight voice.
Peter continued with, “Willowbrook is a town that does just that, which is why I cannot imagine a more perfect location for our next Econo-Inn. Thank you for having us.”
The room was clearly charmed, save for the two Covey sisters who were shooting daggers at the speaker. Lara Jean couldn’t believe his gall. Not only did he deceitfully fraternize with his competition, but he did it so openly. Complimenting her cake. Asking about the inn. And then he went ahead and repurposed her mom’s philosophy as his own. The meeting closed up, Mayor Newberry providing closing remarks, and then Lara Jean made her way directly to Peter, her angry energy so palpable that the crowd parted for her.
Peter was in the middle of a conversation with the owner of the local bookstore when Lara Jean interrupted with, “Hey, remember me?”
Peter looked over and frowned slightly before telling the bookstore owner, “I’m sorry, can you excuse me for a moment?” He turned to Lara Jean and offered, “Why don’t we step outside?”
“Why?”
“Well, I have the distinct feeling I’m about to get yelled at.”
“You think? I bet you were just laughing it up when you were at the inn earlier. Thinking about how clever you were sneaking into the competition’s dining room. Preening over the chocolate cake to make us like you.”
“You liked me?” he lobbed back with a sly grin.
“What? No. I didn’t like you. I tolerated you. And that cake? It was day-old cake. Do you think I like you now with that day-old cake?”
“It was still very good cake,” he returned reasonably.
“You are unbelievable,” Lara Jean said shortly. “You knew exactly what you were doing. And I can’t believe I told you about my mom, and then you used it for your own gain?”
The easy expression dropped from Peter’s face, and he said, “Whoah, whoah, whoah, hold on. What are you talking about?”
“You used her line! A place where everyone feels like family you haven’t met-“
“Look, your mom’s whole hospitality thing…it’s nice, but it’s not exactly unique. We’ve essentially been selling the same mission statement for years. If I made it seem like I was trying to steal your mom’s legacy or something, that wasn’t my intention.”
“But-“
“AndI wasn’t sneaking into your dining room. I heard that you guys had the best food in town and it was around lunchtime. It wasn’t some nefarious plan. I was hungry.”
It was hard to stay angry in the face of his calm explanation, but she managed.
“Don’t try to play nice. I know exactly how people like you operate and I won’t fall for it. This isn’t over, Peter Kavinsky.”
With that she turned on her heel and stormed out of the meeting. Kitty followed and asked, “Did you really serve him day-old cake. Margot would freak if she found out.”
“Of course I didn’t. I have standards.”
Kitty was quiet for a moment and then said, “Maybe it won’t be that bad. I’m sure some places survive with them.”
Lara Jean wanted to humor her little sister and slid her arm around her shoulders. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Kitty read into Lara Jean’s uncertain tone and asked, “What are we going to do?”
“For now, we do what Mom taught us. We work. That’s all we can do right now.”